


Cashmere Calculations

by The_Readers_Muse



Category: A Discovery of Witches (TV)
Genre: Animal Instincts, Animal Traits, Biting, Clothing Kink, Drama & Romance, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Mating, Multi, Possessive Behavior, Rough Sex, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:47:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25629949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Readers_Muse/pseuds/The_Readers_Muse
Summary: "Do you not want company tonight, mon amour?"
Relationships: Baldwin Clairmont/Original Character(s), Diana Bishop & Matthew Clairmont, Diana Bishop/Matthew Clairmont
Comments: 10
Kudos: 141





	Cashmere Calculations

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own "A Discovery of Witches" or any of the show/book's characters, wishful thinking aside.
> 
> Authors Note #1: Inspired by the following prompt: "Matthew in tight jeans and a clingy cashmere sweater," for lady-lazarus-declermont.
> 
> Warnings: vampires, animal traits and behaviors, mating, romance, drama, established relationship, sexual content, possessive behavior, rough sex.

She was waiting for him when he joined her in their bedroom. Smiling from the tangle of sheets as he sighed and stretched. Private plane or not, overseas travel was never exactly restful. Or comfortable.

She winced in sympathy as he rolled his neck, palm pressing against the back like he could force something back into alignment. Looking much like he wanted to go through some poses right there on the floor. Sensing his glance towards the closet where they kept their yoga mats. But when he looked at her, she didn't encourage the idea by giving it a voice.

She had something else in mind.

He was about to pull the cashmere sweater up over his head when she stopped him.

"No," she hummed firmly, pleased when he stopped in his tracks.

He paused, smile quirking. Sensing her playfulness.

"Do you not want company tonight, mon amour?"

She slid slowly from the bed in reply, coming to stand beside him. She brushed her hand down the soft of his sweater. Delighting in the feel of the silken threads. She had been surprised at the cream color when he'd dressed that morning. He didn't wear many light colors, so the contrast had been a treat. But it was his jeans, dark and indecently tight, that had captured her interest. Along with a few other things.

She hadn't fully appreciated how lovely his ass was until those jeans had come along.

It wasn't until he reached for her that she pulled away. Eyes flicking up to meet his with a deliberate air. Waiting until she had his full attention before she started to circle him. Surprised when it made her feel powerful, not awkward or unsure. Like part of her remembered the innate human condition - the predator that also knew what it was to feel like prey.

He watched her with dark eyes. Confused until, quite suddenly, he wasn't anymore.

_Oh yes._

She had done her share of observation over the past year. Trying to understand what he liked best. What stirred him. She'd learned he responded beautifully when she echoed some of his own mannerisms. Like leaning in and inhaling down his neck when they were cuddled in bed. Something that whispered of scenting and animal things.

And much like with any research project, her pool of subjects hadn't been limited to Matthew. She'd watched intently when Baldwin was on a scent. The way he stilled in place, eyes closed. Lips parted like scent was a taste he could sample on the air. How Miriam instilled the instinct of the hunt in her work – chasing down every lead. How Marcus deferred naturally to Matthew in all things, recognizing his sire much like he might the alpha of a wolf pack.

But in all honesty, she couldn't deny that the true impetus behind the project stemmed from something that had happened nearly a year ago.

It was the only time she'd ever seen Baldwin caught off guard. Irritated as he might be at an unexpected a turn of events, she'd always got the impression it was an eventuality he'd considered and planned for. But not this time.

Matthew frowned, glancing at his brother with alarm when Baldwin choked on a sudden inhale. The sound exaggerated enough that even she heard it. Looking over to watch Baldwin openly scent the air. Wine glass drifting down, aborted before he could take a drink.

And really, that should have been their first clue. It had been a particularly good vintage.

In all the years she'd known him, she'd never seen Baldwin like that. Captured. Caught. Posture shifting. Looking at the great oak doors with rapt attention. Sensing something Matthew seemingly could not as his hand came up to adjust his tie - then tug on it. Throat working through an aggressive swallow.

She opened her mouth to ask what was wrong, but the words died on her lips. Because it was all there on his face as Ysabeau slowly backed away. Ceding their conversation as the woman saw the same thing they all did. Coming to stand beside Matthew as the mood of the room changed.

Because there was an animal in Baldwin's eyes.

A rangy, feral instinct she recognized only from Matthew.

From the night beside the Thames when he scented her sweater.

From the moment in her flat with Peter Knox.

And when Domenico had appeared in Sept Tours with a summons from the Council.

But she'd never seen it on Baldwin.

All that control and pride had been wiped away without ceremony. Leaving him holding onto his composure by shreds. Fingers digging into the wall at his back, creaking the decorative mahogany siding. His interest in whatever was on the other side of the door was nakedly intimate.

She'd almost looked away. Almost. Feeling the vulnerability of the moment second-hand as her magic prickled. He was an exposed nerve. Attention so fully caught it changed the stern lines of his face. As if his instincts were ahead of his formidable brain for once in his life and now he was exposed to the world purely in the moment. Lonely, hungry and desperately hopeful.

The door swung open with eldritch force. Revealing a gorgeous curly haired brunette she vaguely remembered as being part of the vampire contingent Ysabeau had been entertaining that day. In fact, she remembered her and Baldwin talking hours earlier. She'd been distracted with her own conversations and hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. Certainly nothing to warrant _this_ …whatever _this_ was.

But they'd left before dinner.

She thought they were gone.

How had she-

Baldwin's head tilted to the side as the room fell silent. The brunette mirrored it, eyes dark and flashing. Black skirt flaring out to compliment long legs and a freckled complexion. And far from being unaffected, the woman's chest heaved with breaths she didn't need. Gaze fixed on Baldwin as the moment stretched.

_It was a mating._

Fascination burned like a blush.

She'd never seen Baldwin so-

"Diana…"

Matthew hushed to her side, herding her away as Baldwin's eyes glinted tawny. She watched as he inhaled, eyes half-closed. Scenting the air with an exaggerated huff before his mouth fell slack. Overcome. Looking like he was drunk on it before his expression sharpened. Sensing the shift before the woman moved. So in tune he knew her then. Just like Matthew had known her. Even from the beginning.

The woman crossed the room suddenly. Without invitation, or explanation. Without waiting for him to come to her. Without any discernible signal she could recognize. Her eyes were just as animal as Baldwin wavered in place. Like any moment he might pitch forward - bones versus gravity. Every inch of him straining.

His lip curled when she stopped in front of him.

But it wasn't a sneer.

Instead, he let go of welcoming snarl that seemed to shock _him_ more than anyone.

Matthew hissed a breath between his teeth and towed her to the door. Ysabeau was already standing guard in the hall, waiting for them. Host to an expression she wouldn't recognize as relief until later.

As if- _finally_.

Marthe would put it best later.

_"Two thousand years is a long time to be alone, my dear. None of us are meant for it. Not even Baldwin. It hollows you out. Like a sickness. The instinct gives us back a part of ourselves. A reason to live with hope, rather than heaviness. "_

The brunette answered the snarl with one of her own. Showing perfect white teeth against dark red lipstick. Teasing sharpness against the plush of her lower lip.

"I want to see," she'd whispered insanely. A dark fascination keeping her fingers wrapped around the door frame. Ignoring it when Matthew's hand nudged meaningfully at the small of her back.

"No you don't," Matthew told her firmly, gently uncurling her fingers as a feminine growl rattled into the eves like an overture.

 _But she did.  
_  
She wanted to stay.

 _She wanted to see_.

"Who are you?" Baldwin gritted through clenched teeth. Almost angry. Like this was the best inconvenience he'd ever experienced and it was taking him apart piece by piece.

The brunette cocked her head, long curls gliding off her shoulder to swing through empty air. Looking at him haughtily - but with more feeling than there were words.

"Yours, obviously," she answered, voice wrecked in the most beautiful way.

Baldwin's palm flattened against the wall at his back. Seemingly the only thing keeping him upright or maybe from rushing her. It was a toss up what would happen first. Even Matthew had stilled at the omission, a strange vulnerability alive on his face when she'd torn her eyes away to look at him.

The Book of Life hummed under her skin, helping her understand.

Magic flirted between sinews and veins, whispering.

_It was a choosing._

But a union of the most elemental kind.

Raw. Natural. Fated.

The kind where neither would take another.

And that if one perished, the other would likely follow.

She supposed Matthew hadn't expected to find something in his brother he could relate to.

The hair on her arms prickled, heart pounding in her ears so fast that Matthew brushed his nose in her hair. Rumbling a wordless, concerned sound when she refused to budge.

She forgot to breathe when Baldwin reached forward, cupping the woman's chin in his large palm with cautious reverence. Thumb brushing the soft of her cheek before she captured and nuzzled into it. Eyes drifting closed. Pale palm dwarfed by his larger one.

The exchange was gentle and soft for a long, ageless moment before something snapped and the two of them were simply _on_ one another. Tugging. Pulling. Pushing. Kissing with teeth and tearing fabric as Baldwin clawed a run through tan tights as he lifted her bodily into his lap. Momentum and gravity flinging her stiletto across the room as her left thigh swung out like a banner. Digging her heel into the seat of his trousers as Baldwin rumbled a growl like thunder.

She'd caught the wild of the woman's eyes over his shoulder. Showing her teeth before striking. Biting Baldwin boldly as he shouted, snarled, then almost melted. Like the pleasure was too much as they slid down the wall and-

Matthew had dragged her out at that point. Muttering that they'd kill them both if they didn't give them privacy. Locking the doors behind her with a twitching smile as the sound of cracking furniture and muffled sounds leaked through the seams. But she hadn't been paying attention. All she could think about was how it had happened. Fast. Sure. Brutal. Tender. Like a runaway train or a Spring storm. Skipping neatly over every roadblock she and Matthew had experienced with the heady convenience of sameness.

There were some things she _couldn't_ give Matthew.

Baldwin's mating had just made the difference all the more stark.

When they finally emerged, Baldwin looked more relaxed than she'd ever seen him. Which was saying something considering the careful way he glared down the hall before allowing the brunette to follow him. She'd watched him searchingly, from a distance. Trying to give the woman a welcoming smile as she fussed with the tattered remnants of her blouse under Baldwin's suit jacket. Now draped heavily over her narrow shoulders to hide the ruin they'd made of her outfit.

Baldwin, for his part, didn't even have his dress shirt for cover. Only a simple white undershirt and his trousers. The zipper clearly beyond saving and holding on by a prayer. But somehow, he still wore it like one of his bespoke suits. Chin tipped up, as if daring comment or laughter.

Still, the edges of his face had softened. Like something in him had finally settled as he kept his new mate behind the wide of his back as they crossed the hall. Watching them suspiciously, but still getting himself together long enough to give them an assenting nod before he led her to his tower and out of sight.

Matthew, Ysabeau and Marthe seemed to relax as one after that.

The woman, later introduced as Sasha Greenwood, was sweet and friendly. Seemingly at odds with Baldwin's serious, introverted nature as they got to know her through the coming months. Quickly revealing herself to be bold, intelligent and with a sharp wit. Proving to be complimentary in their contrast as Baldwin willingly caved to her in almost every respect.

She was young, as far as vampires went, and brought that attitude into everything she did. And while she had little in the way of a European pedigree, she was in possession of a sizable wildlife reserve in the northern reaches of Canada's west coast. With no interest in ousting Ysabeau from her position as family matriarch.

They stayed at Sept Tours for a smattering of weeks. Barely able to keep themselves away from one another. Sasha proved herself to be a cut-throat card player with a fascination for the family history when she wasn't locked up in their tower. Looking like the cat who'd snared the canary as she refused to let Baldwin out of her sight for the next eight months at least. And even then, it was merely for a day when they left for Canada to spend time with her clan.

Baldwin had recovered and was ever himself. But the softness in his expression when he looked at Sasha remained. Hushing and permanent. Finally whole in every way that mattered as the balance she gave him proved refreshing for _everyone_ involved.

It was a good look for him, she decided.

She'd been thinking about it ever since. On what Matthew had given up mating a human. And now, with the way he was looking, in those tight jeans and creamy cashmere- well, she couldn't wait any longer. She wanted to give him this.

_And why not?_

Here he was, a shadow in the moonlight.

Looking like a mortal sin after a day of vicious, oblivious teasing.

It was time for a little revenge.

She finished her circling and approached. Forcing him to cede with her boldness. Her tongue licked against his teeth, pulling a fractured sound from deep in his throat. She ignored it. Kissing with blunt human teeth, much harder than she normally would, as he breathed against her lips. Pink, open and sliding.

She mouthed carefully at the curve of his chin. Like a wolf to their Alpha. A mate to a mate. Playful but with a sharpness that only displayed one thing. _Want_. She lapped hungrily into the hollow of his jaw, pressing vicious kisses.

"Diana..."

She moved to his throat and he froze under her. Hands slowly balling to fists.

"Diana..."

His voice was in a choke-hold, all heat and animal devotion as she dragged her teeth there.

A low, hopeful rattle left his throat when she encouraged him onto the bed. Too soft to be a growl, but too low for a hiss. More like the purr of a big cat. A predator's lilt of affection. Her cheeks heated at the thought as she climbed astride him. Thighs rubbing together, knowing she'd been caught when his nostrils flared. Chest rising and falling under her in a near pant.

She scratched her nails down the exposed strip of his belly where the cashmere had rucked up. Playing with the button of his jean before flicking it open. Encouraging him to hike up and steal a kiss as she peeled the jeans down, down, down. Trapping his calves. Ignoring his attempts to kick them off entirely.

The crux where his groin met his thigh smelled faintly of snow and charred wood. She dragged her lips over the crease again and again with an affectionate heat. Inhaling as he twitched underneath her - almost a squirm.

She smirked into the denim.

"Diana..." he growled. It was more a warning than any of his protests so far. But again, she ignored it. He was hers to enjoy. Remembering the confidence in Sasha's stride when she'd approached Baldwin at Sept Tours. She had to feel it if she wanted him to believe it.

She dragged her teeth down the soft of his belly as he clawed at the sheets. Delighting in the red marks as the muscles twitched and jumped under her nails. Making her feel powerful in an entirely different way as his chest rose and fell harshly.

There was a continuous rumble alive in the room as he watched her. He didn't seem capable of holding it back anymore. His pupils were black and slough eyed. Lids heavy as they eased closed before cracking open again when she nipped his skin, unable to help it. Caught between hedonistic pleasure and something far more feral.

She shivered, already wet against his thighs.

"So good," she cooed, rubbing the cashmere between her fingers. Worrying his skin with her teeth when his hips jerked up, cock damp through the cotton of his shorts. Hesitating for a long moment before dropping what would be her final, if forever unpublished thesis on the matter as her nails traced his ribs. " _Mine_..."

His restraint evaporated like dew in the summer. Snarling a wordless sound as he snatched her up. Flipping them so she was on her hands and knees and he was wavering behind her. Thrilling her by falling into a position he rarely allowed as he kicked out of his jeans. Not bothering to take off the sweater as the soft of it grazed her skin when he flattened her to the mattress.

He gripped her bodily, encouraging her ass higher as her elbows sank into the mattress. Thighs quivering and dangerously apart as he groaned, cock nudging her folds. Slick and wet as he hissed something that could have been a word, a curse, a plead before she solved the issue by lancing back. Sheathing him in her in one stroke.

He _howled_.

She smirked through a fettered gasp, eyes crinkling into the duvet. Feeling him. The moment. _All of it_. Alive in the knowledge that Matthew had never seemed more gone as he ground himself deep. His hands were shaking, trembling, wrecked. Because of _her_. Because of what she'd _done_. Because of what she'd _given_ _him_. A small taste of the primitive in the only way she knew how.

He'd never asked. Never let on it was even something he needed. She hadn't understood until she'd seen Baldwin and Sasha all but challenge each other without moving. It had been Sasha who moved first. She was the one who'd chosen. Returning Baldwin's interest with all that intimate violence.

It was the female who chose, after all.

Matthew's hips stuttered, punching a whine from deep in his throat when she clenched around him. Goading him for more. Harder. _Faster_. For him to be nothing like the controlled gentleman he desperately tried to be – even when they were tangled in the sheets and exploring each other - just this once.

"Mine," she whispered again. Knowing he could hear it. Chucking darkly when his fingers bit into the soft of her ass. Keeping her there as he fucked into her with quick, uncontrolled thrusts.

She surged back hungrily, wanting more. Spine arching when the sharp of his teeth scraped down her back. Practically keening at how gone he was to even do that as the bones in her hands ached at the strain of keeping herself planted. She clenched around him, crying his name when his hips punished her with a harder pace. Pleasure and pride swelled in her throat as he chased his own needs selfishly. Letting him use her as he growled into her hair. Rubbing his face in the dip of her shoulder as his thrusts turned jerky and-

Yes.

 _This_.

He came first. But she didn't get to enjoy the novelty. Quickly tumbling after him with his fingers on her clit and sharp of his teeth at her neck. Snarling fiercely when she peaked with a fractured cry, clenching around his cock as it pulsed inside her. Finding herself pinned under his careful weight as his hips hitched into her lazily, chasing the echoes. Whispering her name with a reverent purr when she turned to him. Weaving their fingers together when he reached for her. Affirming. Whole. Sated.

His face was a holy wreck and she had been the architect.

She pressed a kiss into the pale of his neck. Saving the smug smile for herself when he tucked her beside him without speaking. The rumpled cashmere whispering pleasantly across her skin as he nosed into her hair. Breathing her in as he filled the air with an endearing burr of sound.

She could get used to this.

* * *

They were still breathing hard and splayed across the floor when he chanced words.

"Mon couer," he murmured. Opening with the delicacy of someone who was shell-shocked, but also too well-fucked to get truly introspective. "What on _earth_ got into you this evening?"

She smirked at the ceiling, toes perhaps permanently curled. Stretching sore muscles until her fingers grasped the ruin they'd made out of his jeans. Maybe someday she would tell him. But then, maybe not. Some secrets were best kept, after all. Resolving instead to order at least a dozen more pairs of those sinful jeans at the first opportunity.

A good researcher needed a wealth of results before their work could be deemed viable, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Reference:
> 
> \- mon amour: my love.
> 
> \- mon couer: my heart.


End file.
